


where the wild things are

by DesertRaven



Series: Old Flames [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Non-Specific Warrior of Light, One Shot, Vague, no plot to speak of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:33:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertRaven/pseuds/DesertRaven
Summary: A snowy chase.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Series: Old Flames [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164608
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	where the wild things are

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot set after the events of [Old Flames](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825797/chapters/65446273).
> 
> It's real vague and stands on its own if you want it to.

Snow crunched loudly under her boots and she knew she was leaving tracks, but there was no time to cover them. If she could make the tree line ahead, the ground cover might help mask her path. That was a big if. Frigid air burned her lungs with every breath and her thighs screamed in protest with every step. Despite the below-freezing temperatures, sweat soaked her thermal gear. She was grateful for the stolen Garlean clothing, though. It was much better suited to physical activity and harsh weather, both of which she needed to stay ahead of her pursuer.

She had been spotted in the little town she had gone into for supplies, and she had fled without her pack. Only the twin daggers she carried for defense against the few beasts that inhabited this frozen land remained, strapped to her thighs. Her little home in the woods was several bells' journey to the town, under normal circumstances, but at the breakneck pace she had set she could be there soon. If she could reach it… but it was hard to say how long she had already been running, or how much longer she could maintain this pace.

As she passed the first sparse trees, a single gunshot echoed across the snow-bound landscape, wood splintering off a trunk to her left at knee-height. It was a terrible shot, or aimed only to frighten her. She wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

It was easier to forge a different path in the woods. She doubled back, circled trees, wound her way through until she could just see the shape of her cabin. So close. But her pursuer was right behind her. She could hear his breaths, harsh from exertion, and the heavy footfalls of Imperial-issue boots. If she turned her head, she might see the Garlean in her periphery, but she kept looking straight. Just a little farther to the door, an appropriated gunblade leaning just inside.

She didn’t make it.

A hand closed around the back of her shirt, hauling her off her feet and slamming her to the ground. She screamed her anger, striking out with both hands and feet as the Garlean settled his weight over her hips, pinning her down in the snow. He was still helmed, and the metal of his armor bit into her skin even through her clothes.

“Scream as loud as you want, there’s no one out here to hear you.” His voice was distorted, mechanical through the helmet.

She thrashed against him in an attempt to mask her movements as she reached for the knife at her thigh, but he saw through it and grabbed for her wrists, pinning them above her head in one hand. She knew she was caught, but she wasn’t going to give up that easily. She threw her hips up and sideways, trying to buck his weight off of her, kicked her legs and dug her heels into the snow to give her more leverage, but he was too big, too heavy.

When her fight started to wane, the man stood, pulling her with him and dragging her towards the door. All her shouted protests, her thrashing against him, went ignored. The door wasn’t locked and he shouldered it open to carry her inside. It was small, a single room, with a screen dividing living space from sleeping space. He wasted no time finding his target and dumping her onto the bed. She scrambled back into the corner, curling herself into a ball in a display of fear, though she was watching for an opening.

The Garlean removed his helmet and let it fall to the floor. His was not an unattractive face, with dark blonde hair desperately in need of a trim and blue eyes; not the blue she would have preferred, but that was another lifetime. He shed his armor methodically, never taking his eyes off of her, until he had stripped down to the black undersuit that matched her own.

“You lead me on quite the chase.” Without the voice modulation of the helm, he sounded amused. “If you had run a bit faster you might have made it to that gunblade, too.” 

He reached for her, his hand closing around her ankle and pulling her down the bed towards him until he could lean over her, lips almost brushing hers. “But you wanted to be caught, didn’t you, little beast?”

Her hands flew to his hair, yanking him down into a desperate, needy kiss that left her lips bruised. The chase always did this to her, him too. Both of them were panting when they parted.

“You shot at me.”

He laughed, shrugging slightly. “I missed.”

“You never miss, my love.”

He kissed her again, more gently this time, scooting her back on the bed until he could settle over her fully.

“I won, and I will take my prize, my beast.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close until their bodies slotted together. No pretense, no Warrior of Light, no Emperor of Garlemald. It was not the same, but it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> They deserved a happy ending, and I'm a sucker.
> 
> Screech at me on Discord at [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/K9PW9qv)


End file.
